Shattered Chapter 4: In Love With Another, a thunderbirds fanfic

Chapter Four: In Love With Another

Lana sipped her Iced Cappuccino, thinking this was where she was meant to be for the rest of her life. Sure, the floors could've been washed better. And, maybe the bathrooms around the corner could've used real toilet paper. But staring into Greg's eyes, knowing that he loved her back, was exactly what this girl wanted.

Sure, Lana still had feelings for Scott. And, true, she and him had spent a lovely evening together yesterday. But Lana was sure her feelings for Greg ran deeper. After all, her and Scott had originally decided they were in love practically overnight - like that ever really happened. No, Lana was certain she loved Greg.

But, then, why didn't she have the heart to tell Scott that last night?

She rested her hand on the table, and Greg encased it with his. He smiled at her. It was a loving, wondering smile. He truly loved her back.

Lana leaned forward, kissing him tenderly. He gladly returned it. She felt like there was no one else in the world except the two of them.

But she was wrong. Very wrong.

As Scott stared from the line at the coffee shop, he swore he felt his heart ripping in half. Just as he thought the nightmare that had become his love life had finally calmed, it started all over again.

No, he told himself, denying it, it can't be . . . it has to be someone else.

This made no sense to him. He grabbed the coffee from off the counter, but only moved slightly, still watching.

Why, he asked himself, had she not told him she was in love with Dr. Peterson last night? He had made a fool of himself for a girl who had moved on.

He stormed out of the coffee shop, gulping the strong coffee. I'm such an idiot! And a jerk, at that.

Scott opened the door of his rental Jeep, practically denting the side of the car next to him. He jumped in, shoved the now half-full coffee in the cup holder, and turned on the ignition. His seatbelt was barely buckled as he stepped on the gas to pull out.

He needed to blow off steam before this afternoon. He'd promised Lana that he'd meet her then, and he wasn't going to miss that for the world.

"Tess, please, don't do this," Virgil pleaded.

Tessa sighed. "Virgil, I have to."

"Darling, I know we've been arguing lately over the wedding plans, but really, isn't this a bit . . . rash?" he asked, upset.

She smiled at him weakly. "Virgil, I love you, but I have to go."

"This is completely childish!" he yelled.

"Oh, quit being so dramatic!" she snapped, "For crying out loud - I'm just going to see my father."

"Yes, but for four days! And alone!"

She shrugged, going into the walk-in closet. "I can't help it. He requested that I stay longer and be alone this time. 'Something big I need to tell you about . . . alone.' That was all he said to me. Now, how am I to respond to that? 'No, Dad, I would rather involve my fiancé, whom you hate, and have to pay for yet another lamp.' Yes, sounds perfect." She returned with a sun dress, and a pair of pink stilettos Penny had given her on her birthday.

Virgil watched her with his eyes. "Tess, I just got you back. Now I'm losing you again."

She looked over at him, and set the dress on the bed, along with the shoes. Tessa walked towards him, and held him. She tenderly kissed his lips. "Virgil, you never lost me. And you aren't losing me now. I'll call and email you everyday, I promise." She kissed his lips again.

When she tried to pull away, though, Tessa found Virgil was not letting her go. She didn't mind that, but the fact that his hands were beginning to wander was starting to bother her. "Virgil . . . ," she began.

"I know, I know," he answered, "but I'm still not going to let you go."

She laughed. "It's not that, trust me . . . it's the hands. You know how I feel about wandering hands . . ."

He looked at her oddly. "Tessa, my hands have been on your back the entire time I've held you."

It took her a moment to contemplate what he had just said.

Then she felt the now very familiar scales on her neck. She screamed. "AHHH! ALAN! YOU GET YOUR REAR IN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Virgil let her go, knowing it was the smartest thing to do. As soon as Alan appeared nervously in the door, he backed away.

Tessa peeled the alligator off the back of her neck and threw it at Alan. "Keep that thing away from me!" she yelled.

Alan caught Frodo, and looked angry. "Well, you didn't have to hurl him! You might've killed him!"

She looked like fire might shoot out her eyes at any second. "I might have killed him! WHO let him out of his cage! WHO let him roam free where he might get caught in a blender or flushed, or anything! Now GET OUT!" She slammed the door in his face, and resumed packing, now throwing the clothes in her bag violently.

Virgil came over and held her shoulders, trying to calm her down. "Hey, Tess," he said soothingly, "why do you let that alligator bother you? He's small enough to fit in your palm."

She held his hands in place with her own. "Promise not to tell?"

He turned her around, now scared. When Tessa had a secret, it had always been a large one. She knew their identities. She was dating his brother. Her father was their arch enemy. Her mother had been beaten. So, naturally, Virgil was slightly afraid. "Hey, what is it?"

She looked miserable. "My dad took me to the zoo when I was little once. He said alligators kill for pleasure, and that they eat humans. He really freaked me out. And now I'm afraid of alligators."

He held her close. "Oh, Tess . . ."

She gladly accepted the embrace.

When Lana opened the door to her hospital room, she found Scott already there, looking out the window. She was puzzled - weren't they supposed to meet later? "Scott?" she asked, double-
checking.

He turned. She smiled and walked towards him. Her arms wrapped themselves around him, and her lips found his. But Lana was confused when he only returned the kiss half-heartedly, like he was only doing what he was supposed to. She pulled away, and looked up at him. He wasn't smiling, in fact, he looked sort-of angry.

"Scott? What's wrong?" Lana was concerned. She still had her arms around him as she looked up into his eyes.

He looked down into hers and smiled. But there was nothing joyous about it. Not like yesterday. "I was wondering how you can kiss me when its so obvious you're in love with someone else."

Lana's eyes widened. It wasn't possible! There was no way he could've found out she loved Greg!

Scott nodded as he grabbed her hands and threw them off himself. "I thought so. I'm such an idiot!" He turned back to the window, his right forearm resting on it.

Lana stood there. "How . . . how did you find out?"

Scott's head dropped. "Other people in the world have coffee addictions too, you know."

A vision of herself melting over Greg that morning poured through her head. She tried to keep her voice even, and calm. "Look, Scott-"

He spun around angrily. He had a fierce temper. "Don't you dare 'Look, Scott' me! How can you expect me to be okay with this! Do you realize how much I've gone through for you! Do you know how much this hurts?"

Lana was in shock. "Scott, I knew you, what? Two weeks? Three? That's 21 days. Twenty-one days, and you told me you loved me. Then, right after that, we had a big fight, didn't speak to each other for another week, and then made-up just as I was leaving. Then what? I go through a month without hearing from you! And you expect me to just wait for you!"

Scott was in shock. "Excuse me! Who's the person who was supposed to be dead but isn't! At least I went to the one place where you might actually be - your home. But no! I have to wait for my brother to tell me where you are!"

"I had amnesia!"

"I was suicidal!"

Lana stared for a moment. What did he just say?

Scott realized what he had just told her. He'd had no intention ever of telling Lana about those times when he tried to kill himself - just so he could be with her. There were more times than those his family knew about, and he really had never wanted to burden anyone with them. Ever. Especially Lana. Even though he was madder at her than anything else, beneath it, he knew he loved her.

His hands buried his face. "Look, forget I said that. This was a foolish argument to begin with."

"No," Lana said abruptly.

Scott looked at her through his fingers. "You mean that accusing each other of something neither of us could control wasn't stupid?"

"No, no, that was foolish, all right," she explained, crossing her arms, "but I refuse to let the 'suicidal' thing go. Tell me Scott, what exactly do you mean by that?"

His hands dropped. Her tone was becoming almost bitter. "You don't want to hear it."

"Oh, I think I do. Tell me, Scott. I don't know why it is I don't believe you. You know what, I don't really care. If you were stupid enough to try and take your own life even once, and then accuse me of doing anything wrong, you can just leave." She pointed to the door.

He walked towards it. But as Scott turned the knob, he looked back. "I meant what I said on the beach that day. I do love you, Lana."

She paused, not sure how to respond. She turned around, so her vulnerability wouldn't show. When she thought of a reply finally, she turned back to find nothing but a closed door.

Penelope watched from the side as Virgil kissed Tessa goodbye for what must have been the 10th time.

Just once, she thought, just once, I wish Jeff would look at me like that.

Penny waved to her once nemesis as Virgil finally let go of her. Tess waved back to everyone before closing the plane door.

Penny dared a glance at Jeff. He was exactly how she thought he would be. He stood tall, proud of all he'd done in his life. His strong hand perched above his dark eyes, shading them from a blinding sun. His short, graying hair began to toss lightly as her plane took off. Jeff was completely predictable.

She watched as the lines around his mouth deepened in a smile as he waved one final time. She turned and waved broadly, joining in with what few boys were actually on the island. Penelope smiled broadly as the plane flew into the distance.

Sure, he was old enough to be her father. And maybe it showed. He may have also never really been the most handsome man to begin with.

But in Penelope's eyes, he was the best thing in the world.

If only, just once, she could know what he saw through his eyes.

Gordon ducked as a rolled up shirt went flying towards his head.

"How in the heck do you justify not telling me!" Scott's thundering voice yelled at him.

"Calm down!" Gordon yelled back as his brother violently whipped a shirt into his suitcase.

"What for?" Scott asked, turning towards him.

Gordon prayed his brother wouldn't kill him. "Sure, okay, I knew. He told me. But I figured that it was just a fling. Easily broken."

"Yeah, well, it's not." Scott returned to "packing" (which was actually just whipping clothes from different angles).

Gordon marched over to where his brother stood, and slammed the suitcase shut. "Have you actually tried! Huh! Have you? No! You've only been here a couple of day, Scott, and you're already giving up on the girl you would die for!"

Scott stared at him hard. His face was angry, but deep down, he knew his brother was right.

"I thought so." Gordon whipped the un-zipped suitcase across the room, causing clothes to flood the already disastrous room. "Now quit your stupid packing, and win her back!"

Virgil was moping around. It was obvious to everyone how much he missed Tessa.

He barely ate dinner - only a steak, some hamburger, a small pile of fries, a Dr. Pepper . . . hot fudge sundae. Clearly, he was starving himself, in Penelope's opinion.

He was boring. Not bored, boring. He never wanted to play chess. He didn't want to swim. He didn't want to see if fish liked Roman candles. Alan felt he was obviously depressed.

He was being lazy. That was all Jeff thought of Virgil. Okay, fine, he realized that his son's fiancée had just left him alone. But for crying out loud, it was just four days! He wanted to tell his son to take it like a man.

But he remembered all the times he'd had to leave Lucy. He knew how horrible it was to have to leave the one you loved.

But that was for a week - sometimes even more - at a time. This was just four days!

His son was now perched by the window, staring out at the sunset. How could he just let his life pass him by?

Jeff got up to tell his son to go read a book or something, when the phone rang.

Virgil barely heard the familiar ring. He watched the sun go down, wondering if Tessa was watching the same sunset.

How fair was it that he only had her back for a couple of days before she was taken again? How come this always happened to him!

"VIRGIL! PHONE!" his father yelled for the second time.

He looked over, stunned, to where his father stood holding the phone. He never got phone calls . . . ever.

He got up, and walked to where his father was. Virgil took the phone as his father sat down again. "Hello?"

"Virgil? Honey?" a tiny voice asked on the other end.

"Tess? Tessa is that you?" he asked.

"Oh, Virgil . . . ," the voice became very full of emotions. He swore he heard crying.

He was worried. "What's wrong? Tess?"

She sniffed. "Virgil . . . he . . . he . . . I just can't believe it!" she came out in full sobs then.

Virgil was genuinely petrified now. Her father was capable of anything, he knew this from experience. "Tess, please! What's going on?" All the eyes in the room were on him now.

There was nothing but tears on the other end.

"Darling? If something's wrong, I need to know who to beat up . . . ," he tried.

There was a small laugh on the other end. A pause followed it. "I'm fine, really. Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to hear your voice . . ."

He was sceptical. "How come I don't believe you, Tess?"

Tess sniffed. "Look, it's been a really trying day. I really need you right now, Virgil. I'd say more than ever, but I remember several incidences where I needed you just as much."

He laughed. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

She breathed in deeply. "You know what? I'm not even sure I'm ready to admit to myself what's happened. I promise I'll try and talk about it when I get home. But I don't know if I can. I gotta go. I love you, Virgil."

"I love you too."

There was a sigh on the other end. "That's what my father told my mother . . ."

Virgil was startled. "What-?"

But the line was dead.

Greg sat at his desk, going over paperwork for a few patients. He would be releasing a few over the next week, lightening his load by quite a lot.

Unfortunately, Lana would have to be one of the ones released.

He'd tried to tip-toe around it. In every possible way. But now that she had been positively identified, and she truly had family to go back to, there was no way to justify keeping her. She was healthy, and there were patients in need of beds.

But letting her go would mean facing the possibility of never seeing her again.

He'd managed to get her another week and a half. He convinced his supervisor that she needed to be monitored for trauma, and then she'd be free to go.

But where would she choose to go? Saskatchewan? Or would she go with Scott?

Maybe, just maybe, he could convince her to stay with him. He knew that even if she did like Scott, she loved him too. She'd made that very clear that morning. He too knew that he could always love her. He knew he would.

A sharp knock came at his door, startling him. "Come in," he replied calmly.

Simone barged into his office, slamming the door behind her, the glass in it rattling. She stormed towards his desk, and slapped her hands down hard. Her cold eyes bore inside of him.

"Is it true!" she demanded.

Greg clenched his teeth. "Is what true?"

Simone looked like she could explode if someone even sneezed. "Word is you're seeing that little tramp of a patient. Is that true!"

Greg stumbled with his wording. "Well . . . uh, actually, no . . ."

Simone rolled her eyes, groaning. "Greg, I can understand you not wanting to see me. I mean, honestly, how would that look? A doctor dating a nurse? Even I think that's a bit cliché. But, honestly, do you realize this could jeopardize your career! That girl could cost you your reputation! Doctors aren't allowed to run off with the cute amnesiac! It's just not allowed." She held his gaze. "End it. Before someone who's not as understanding as me catches wind of this."

Greg tried to respond, thinking he'd tell her he didn't care, but she'd already slammed the door behind her again. So, he went back to getting rid of patients he hated.

There was another knock, and the door creaked open, only to be slammed again.

He didn't bother to look up. "Look, I want nothing to do with you. Just leave me alone to wallow in my own romantic mess."

"I am your romantic mess, dip-stick!" the female called to him.

He stopped writing, and looked up. Sure enough, it was Lana standing before him, not Simone. Her arms were crossed, as was she herself.

He got up from his desk and walked over towards her. "Sorry, I thought you were Simone . . . what's wrong?" He stopped about 3 feet away from her.

Her lips were tight as she spoke. "He knows."

Greg blinked. "Who . . . knows?"

Lana's expression never faltered. "Scott knows that I am in love with you."

Greg shrugged. "So? Sooner or later, Lana, he was going to find out."

She tried to speak, but he wasn't finished.

"Lana, I know you love him, too. I don't really care. Either way, in the end, he would've found out. You can't play this double-date thing forever. Sooner or later, you will have to choose. If you chose him, he'd see me and know. If you chose me, well, he's see us and knows."

She sighed. "I know . . . this isn't fair to either of you. But I just . . . I don't know what to do."

He held her face. "Lana, I know this isn't fair to me or him. But it isn't fair to you, either. You do love him, and you do love me. I can guarantee, if you'd never lost your memory, you would never have looked at me. And I know, if I had never helped you get it back, you'd never have looked at him. The door swings both ways."

A tear streamed down her cheek, and she turned away, unable to look at him.

It was Greg's turn to sigh. "Lana, I need you to sit down for a moment. There's something I need to talk to you about. It may make you want to fix this mess sooner, rather than later."

He escorted her into his chair, and he leaned against his desk. "Lana, before Gordon came, you had no idea who you were, and neither did we. We had nowhere you could go, and we didn't know if you'd be able to find a place on your own.

"But now . . . Lana, we do know who you are, and you're as healthy as anyone here." He thought about that again, and decided to rephrase his sentence. "Well, okay, maybe not here, but you get what I'm saying right?"

Lana squinted at him. "Not exactly . . ."

He sighed again. "Lana, frankly, as much as I want you here . . . I have to let you go. I've reasoned with my boss, and all I've come up with are 10 days. Lana, unless you start showing some symptoms, next week you'll be gone. Home. Or wherever you choose."

Lana was in complete shock. She had nowhere to go! Well, nowhere she wanted to go! And ten days? Ten days! She'd have to make a decision about Scott and Greg by then.

He stood up straight, and looked her dead in the eye. "Now, I know you might not want to abandon whomever you choose for Saskatchewan. I'm sure that Scott will offer to take you back to Tracy Island if that's your choosing. But if you want, you can stay here . . . with me. In Newfoundland."

Penelope watched from the firm upright chair where she was perched as Virgil just sat by the phone, praying to hear from Tessa.

He's been sitting there for hoursshe recalled, Poor dear.

She watched as he shifted his weight at his father's desk. He pretended to be watching the television program with the rest of his family, but it was quite obvious he was focussed on making the phone ring.

Jeff had apparently noticed too. "Virgil, why don't you come watch the news with us?" he urged.

Virgil shook his head from where it rested in his crossed arms. "No, I'm fine watching it from here."

Jeff sighed, exasperated. "She's not going to call, son. Just leave her be."

Virgil didn't move. "Dad, I can't take that chance."

"Virgil, she's called once, and it's now her last night there."

He sat up, seeming genuinely insulted. "So! Dad, you didn't talk to her that first night. She wasn't just upset, she was torn apart. And she won't call me back. I'm worried."

Penelope couldn't take this. She pushed herself up from the armchair, and made her way out to the balcony, her gypsy-style skirt billowing as she walked.

She leaned against the railing, her hands folded over top of each other in front of her. Her breath came out hard and angry. How could Jeff be that insensitive! This was his own son! A son who was genuinely worried about the woman he loved. Why couldn't he just understand that?

She let the wind muss her hair as thoughts dangled in her head. Her left hand raised to her face in thought.

"Penny . . . ," a voice broke through, as a firm, strong hand landed on the railing next to hers.

She turned in surprise. "Jeff . . . ," she replied, hoping he might move his hand.

His hand stayed where it had been placed. Though now, it was nearer to her waist, bringing them into a more personal space.

"What's wrong?" was all he asked.

Lady Penelope gave a small, half-laugh at his crude phrasing. "Jeff, did you even notice how upset Virgil has become?"

Jeff shrugged, his hand still there. "So what? Virgil is upset a lot."

She couldn't fathom what he was saying! "I don't believe you, Jeff! Your son's fiancée, your future daughter-in-law, is in trouble, and you're shrugging it off!"

He finally removed his hand. "Look, Penny, I don't see why Virgil is making such a fuss. We've tried contacting her by every means - if Tessa wanted to be talked to, she'd talk to us. In fact, that's the first time she's ever called when she's gone to visit her father. So, I have no reason to worry."

Penelope shook her head. "You've completely missed the point."

Jeff was annoyed. His voice rose. "Well, then, what's the point!"

Penelope's voice rose equally. "The point is, you're chastising your own son who is obviously lovesick, and isn't hurting anyone by doing the only thing he can!"

"He's hurting himself!"

"Oh, please!Jeff, you wouldn't know love if it slapped you in the face!"

He just stared at her for a moment. "What is that supposed to mean?" His voice was lower, but by no means calmer.

Part of her was telling her to shut up before she said something that she'd regret. The other part of her wanted to ring Jeff's neck. "It means, Jeff, that you need to give it up! I'm not worried about him, I'm worried about you." Her voice was pleading now. "Jeff, Lucy's been gone for more than a decade, at least. And you've done more for her than most people would ever do for a diseased spouse. But you need to stop living in the past. You need to stop reprimanding yourself for something you had no control over. Look around at what you've accomplished. Lucy would be proud. Enjoy that. Look at what's right in front of you." Her eyes locked deeply with his.

Jeff was silent for what seemed like an endless time.

Penelope's thoughts poured out of her mouth then, whether she wanted them to or not. "Why can't you see that I . . ." Penelope caught herself in time.

Or did she. "What did you say?" Jeff asked, looking as though he would not easily drop this.

Penelope took a deep breath, laughing as she exhaled. "You never could see love when you needed to, Jeff." She turned and smiled directly at him, before walking away. She stopped in the doorway, though, and smiled flirtatiously again at him. "Think about that."

She walked back inside, leaving a shell-shocked Jeff out on the balcony.

Lana was trying to reason with Scott . . . again. "Look, I only have a week left. How in the heck am I supposed to choose by then without this stupid arrangement!"

Scott held his arms in the air. "How am I supposed to know! It's your love life. Pick someone! I hate this double-dating game! I'm not someone who likes sharing while on a date."

She was at the window of what was still currently her room. "Well, until I find good enough reason to date you alone, you'd better get used to it."

"I don't get it! How come you'll see him alone, but not me!"

She looked at him coolly. "Because Greg is not a suicidal maniac."

Scott was frustrated. "Will you drop that! You know nothing about what happened there."

Lana's smile grew sinister. "Enlighten me."

He just looked at her. "You don't want to know. And if you don't trust me enough, why don't just dump me right now?"

Lana opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

He smiled. "Exactly. Admit it: you liiiike me. So much that you don't even have to trust me to like me."

Lana sighed, knowing she'd been defeated. "Look, are you coming tonight, or not?"

Scott smiled broadly. "You bet it. I wouldn't miss a chance to be with you for the world, Lana. Plus, you know, the idea of seeing Greg fall flat on his face really amuses me."

She smiled and shook her head. "He's a far better dancer than you, Scott."

He just smiled and nodded. "Yeah . . . we'll see."

"C'mon, Scott! Get with the party!" Lana yelled from where Greg swung her around on the dance floor of the club.

Scott held up his drink to her. "No, thank you! I'm good!" he yelled back.

She laughed, and he doubted she'd even cared enough to listen to his response.

Scott had to admit, the place was hip. It even had funny-coloured lights and its own bar. Tables surrounded the enormous dance floor, and there was even a staircase leading to more tables, allowing the dancers even more room.

And, he had to admit he'd been completely wrong about Greg's dancing abilities - the man had skills, that was for sure. Not that Scott had gotten to show Lana what he could do.

The high-energy song ended, and the two returned to the table, breathless. Lana smiled at Greg. "That was totally awesome, Hun." She turned to Scott. "Next song, you and me. No excuses this time!" She held her index finger out to make her point. Scott smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

Lana smiled flirtatiously in return. She grasped her purse, and stood up. "Good. I have to go freshen up for a moment. You two boys try not to kill each other while I'm gone, eh." She winked as she made her way back across the floor.

Greg and Scott both watched her walk away. Greg turned back first. "Hey, fly-boy," he began, trying to grab his attention.

Scott turned back towards Greg. "Yes? Was there something you wanted?"

Greg leaned forward as though he did not want to be overheard by anyone. "I think we should both give up the act."

Scott's brow creased slightly. "What act?" he inquired, unsure of whether or not he wanted to know.

Greg smiled. "We both know this is more of a competition than a date."

Scott forged shock. "No! Get out! Really?"

Greg sat back up, his lips forming a tight line. "You stay away from her. You can't seriously think you have a chance with her." He gestured towards Lana, who was beginning to make her way back from the washroom. Greg smiled sickly. "Give it up, Scott. A girl like that's interested in a doctor, not a fly-boy."

Scott just stared. He'd thought he'd been dealing with a gentleman! Now, he realized Greg was more desperate for Lana than he'd thought possible. Scott's eyebrows went up slightly. "We'll see about that."

Lana met them at the table and pulled Scott up with both hands. "Come on, Scott! I want to dance!"

Scott got up, and used her effort to pull her closer to him. She gasped slightly at first, but then laughed, secretly happy to be in his arms. Scott gave Greg a triumphant look. "See you in a few," he said, letting Greg know unspokenly that the fight was on.

Greg acknowledged it with a nod.

Scott pulled Lana out on the floor gracefully as a modern tango came on. He smoothly began to circle her, as she smiled.

The beat changed, and he grabbed her, and they began to dance, stepping easily to the rhythm.

He pulled her close, and dipped her, making Lana smile. He pulled her back up, and twirled her around.

Greg watched from the side as Scott showed that he was no stranger to the music either. They moved quickly and smoothly with the music, as though they were meant to do this.

The final chorus came on, and the two did not slow down at all. As the music came to a stop, they didn't, in fact, they looked as though they weren't even listening to the music.

A slower song came on, and Scott pulled her close, but neither ever took their eyes off the other.

Greg watched, rocking uneasily in his seat, nervous.

Scott held Lana as close as he could without making her uncomfortable. "Lana," Scott began, taking a deep breath, "there's no easy way to say this . . ."

Greg couldn't take it any longer. He got up, and cut right in, taking Lana away from Scott without saying anything.

Scott stood there, shocked. What was wrong with him!

Lana seemed shocked as well. Even though she danced with Greg, she watched Scott the entire time, willing him to finish his sentence.

Greg tried to turn her, but it didn't have the same effect or effort as when Scott had done it.

Scott decided two could play this game. The song began to change again, this time another up-
beat one. He walked over, and cut in on Lana and Greg, this time announcing himself, but not waiting for a reply.

Lana stared happily into his eyes again, as he began swinging her around, and dancing with her. "Now, where were you?" she asked flirtatiously.

He looked deeply into her eyes. "Lana . . . ," he began, continuing to dance, "about the suicide thing . . ."

"Yes?" she said, dancing on her own, but still close enough to him that people knew they were together. "What about it?"

He took a deep breath, and stopped dancing. "I did it to be with you."

She stopped dancing too. Silence was all that came. Finally she asked, "What did you say?"

He took her hands. "Lana, after you left, there was nothing left for me. I thought . . . I thought if I killed myself, I could be with you again . . . You have to understand how deeply depressed I was . . . I loved you . . . I still do." Scott looked right at her, hoping she'd say something.

Lana stared at him, wide-eyed. "I . . . I . . ." Lana looked down, and let go of his hands. "I need to think about this, Scott." She walked away, picked up her purse, and ran for the exit.

Greg came up to him then. He watched with Scott as Lana went into the parking lot. "Well now you've done it, fly-boy."

Scott turned towards Greg, anger filling him. "What is your problem! You're being such a jerk!"

"Hey, nothing like a little friendly competition, eh, fly-boy? Or are you not used to that where you come from?" Greg pushed him slightly.

That was it. Scott had enough. He pushed him back, only harder. "Don't call me fly-boy!"

Greg came back even madder. "You don't love Lana, I do!" His fist swung at Scott's face.

Scott narrowly dodged it. "You don't know the first thing about her!" His fist swung back.

Before long, words were no longer being exchanged (apart from a few four-letter ones here and there). Fists and kicks flew threw the air, as music continued to play.

"Hey!" a club-worker yelled. "Break it up!"

The fight continued anyway, cheers from other customers edging them on.

Lana was standing outside the club, holding her sides, crying her eyes out. Why does everything have to be so complicated?

The cigarette smoke from a group standing a few metres away from her filled her lungs, making her cough. She felt horrible. For everything. The way she treated Scott, the way she flirted with Greg . . . everything.

Lana turned and stared at the door. Part of her thanked them for not coming after her, giving her time to herself. But another part was angry that they hadn't come after her.

She turned back, and more tears streamed from her eyes. She was so confused! She was sure she loved Greg . . . but what about Scott? Why couldn't she stand the thought of letting him go either?

And there was only a week left.

The doors beside her flew open, and two men fell face-first into the gravel. Lana gasped at all their scrapes and bruises, but she realized quickly that at least some must have been obtained inside. The two groaned and moved a bit, trying to get up.

"Get out of here!" the angry club-owner yelled. "And don't come back!" The door slammed, and the two men got up, brushing themselves off.

"Are you two alright?" she asked, rushing over. She got one look at the two, and gasped. "You . . . you idiots! What were you two doing in there!"

Scott shrugged, and brushed off his shoulder, wincing in doing so. "Just a slight disagreement . . . that's all." His eyes shut in pain, one of them already turning black.

Greg looked over at Scott, his left eye black as well. "Yeah, some disagreement."

Lana's arms were folded. "You two need to calm down. I don't want you guys to get thrown out again."

The two had monotones. "Yes, Lana . . ."

"Good," she said crisply, "now, c'mon. We're going home." She turned and walked towards the car.

Greg stepped in front of Scott, limping all the way to the car. Scott followed behind, an angry expression plastered on his face as he held his battered shoulder.

Jeff watched, completely lost in thought, as the sun arose over Tracy Island.

Tessa would be coming home that afternoon, and with her, the house would be full of life.

Or will it . . .? he thought. Her first call had been distressed, as Virgil had described. She seemed like she wanted to come back, but knew she needed time. She had called again late last night, but only to let him know that she would be coming home in the afternoon, and that she didn't want any fuss what-so-ever when she arrived. Tess had been on the phone all of two minutes, he recalled, and she didn't even want to talk to Virgil.

Jeff leaned against the balcony railing. To be honest, he was worried. He always worried when Tessa went to visit her father, but this time more so. Why was she so upset? Had her father turned her against them?

He knew he shouldn't worry, but when she specifically told Jeff that she did not want to talk to Virgil, he got scared. She loved Virgil with all her heart, so why wouldn't she talk to him?

He turned and saw Penny through the window. She was in her silk housecoat, and was helping Kyrano in the kitchen . . . or trying.

Jeff's thoughts returned to Penelope, as they had often done over the past twenty-four hours.

Does she really feel that way? Jeff asked himself. How had he missed it? He'd known her for many years now . . . so why, all of the sudden, was he just realizing that she had indeed fallen for him?

His mind wandered over the past years. Her smiling and saying, "Good morning, Mr. Tracy," when they worked at the Bureau . . . her blush when he talked to her about International Rescue . . . her agreeing to take part . . . come to think of it, every time he saw her, she had been smiling.

Why didn't I notice before! he chastised.

Jeff felt like such a fool. And he led her on! Or, at least, that's how he felt. He could've said something, after all. He couldn't go out with Penny . . . he was still in love with somebody else.

His wife.

For even though she had been dead many years now, Jeff still loved her every bit as much as the day he'd proposed.

Tessa wiped the last tear from her eye with the last Kleenex in her box. She tossed it in the basket, and watched as the ground drew closer.

She'd made a promise to herself not to cry anymore. She'd made a promise it would soon be over. She made a promise not to let anything happen to herself that had happened to her mother.

She sniffed, withholding anymore tears. Virgil would be on the ground . . . maybe he would calm her nerves.

That is, if she decided to tell him.

Which was another promise she'd made: she wasn't going to tell anyone.

Tessa was certain now that the only father she truly had was Jeff. She wanted no more to do with that man sitting in a prison cell, waiting for his sentence to be up. This had been the final straw.

When she'd stared into those cold, unfamiliar eyes, she knew that her relationship with her father was gone.

He'd begged her to forgive him. He'd pleaded with her not to go. He promised her nothing bad would happen anymore.

"Too little, too late," she'd spat back in his face.

The plane touched the ground, and Tess prepared to get out. She grabbed her bags and, once the plane had stopped, walked towards the door.

She opened it to find Virgil at the bottom of the stairs. She smiled at him, her heart still broken inside.

He ran up the stairs, and grabbed her. His lips fell to hers, and she knew then they'd both been waiting to long to kiss each other again.

She stayed in his arms for what seemed like forever. Finally, she broke away, and picked up a bag, Virgil having grabbed the other one. Her hand held his, and they raced down the steps together.

Just as she'd requested, no one was on the ground.

They slowed to a walk as they reached the pathway leading to the door. "So," Virgil began, "how was your visit with father dearest?"

She sighed, her hand resting on the doorknob. "Frankly, Virgil, a far as I'm concerned . . . I don't have a father anymore." She turned it, ignoring the stunned expression on her fiancé's face.

"OW!" Scott screeched in pain.

"Well, if you would hold still, it wouldn't hurt!" Gordon countered, as he continued wrapping Scott's shoulder.

Gordon had woken up that morning to find Scott lying over a hotel room chair like someone's discarded coat. He had gasped when he saw the bloody mess.

Now he sat across from him, bandaging his eldest brother.

"Scott, only one question remains lodged in my mind right now," he informed his brother.

"Yeah," Scott asked, though clenched teeth, "what's that!"

"Just what were you thinking! Dad's gonna kill you!"

Scott was silent as his brother fastened the wrap around his shoulder. His voice was just a whisper. "He said I should give it up. He told me that I wasn't good enough for her. He said she wanted a doctor not a 'fly-boy'." There was bitterness in his voice.

Gordon just sat there, in complete disbelief. "He said that? Greg Peterson, the man who helps people gain memories, and plays with children, said that?"

Scott nodded, not looking at his brother.

Gordon was silent for a moment. "Did you hit him back?" he asked.

Over the next couple days, Lana barely left her room. Sure, occasionally Greg or Scott would come in, ask her out, but she would insist on staying inside. Somehow, Lana felt like if she stayed in her room long enough, everyone would work out their problems themselves.

Simone had given her a suitcase, and had started helping her pack. Lana had told her she could handle it on her own, and that's where she was now. Folding underwear in her room.

Lana placed some clothes in her bag absentmindedly. She stood up, and stared out the window.

It was hard to believe that just day ago, Scott had been standing there, telling her he knew about Greg . . . but that he still loved her anyway.

She leaned against the window, completely miserable. I don't deserve a man like Scott, she thought. He forgives me . . . even though I cheated on him.

Some people may say that cheating was too strong of a word, but that's how she thought of herself. A cheater. When they had found each other again, she made no attempt at all to tell him she was in love with somebody else.

Scott was a loyal, forgiving man. He worshipped the ground she walked on. If she said jump, he'd do it, no questions asked.

Greg was wonderful, too, though. And she loved him so much.

Why was this so hard? Every time she came to a decision, she just couldn't say anything.

There came a knock on her door. She turned, a tear streaking her cheek. She rubbed at it. "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Libby walked in. She was dressed in a pink sun dress, a teddy bear clutched under her arm. When she looked at Lana she ran over to her, and clung to her leg. "Oh, Lawna, whas wrong?" she asked innocently.

Lana patted her head. "Oh, you wouldn't understand, Libby."

Libby shook her head. "Nah-uh. Mommy said dat Dokter Gweg said that I could gow home now. And I underswtood."

Lana smiled. "You're going too?"

Libby nodded. "I'm gowing home today. Dokter Gweg says I'm awll better now."

"Good for you, Libby. I knew you'd get better. Doctor Greg says I can go home in a couple of days too."

She looked up. "Rewee?"

Lana nodded. "Yes."

Libby pouted. "Will you come and visit me? Can I visit you?"

She sighed. "I don't know, Libby . . . I don't know where I'm going when I leave."

Libby gasped. "Don't you hawve a home? Cuz my mumma towl' me dat sum people don't got a home, and they live in property."

She laughed. "Poverty, Libby. And, no, I do have a home. I just have too many . . . Greg, erm, Doctor Greg asked me to live here, and my friend Mr. Tracy-"

"Wish one?" Libby interrupted.

She thought for a moment, remembering Gordon. "The . . . older one. Anyway, he asked me to live on his island, and my family will want me to live with them. So I have three homes."

Libby thought for a moment. "I don't wanna be a gwown-up . . . it's too constipated."

Lana bit her lip to keep from smiling. "Yes, being a grown-up can get very constipated at times. But it's worth it in the end."

Tess slammed her bedroom door shut in his face. "Virgil! How many times do I have to tell you! I don't want to talk about it! The subject of my father is off-limits!"

"I am your fiancé! We aren't supposed to keep secrets!" he thundered back. His anger was actually quite horrifying, and the rest of the people residing on Tracy Island were outside . . . not that it did much to stop from hearing.

Tess did her part in the yelling pretty well, too. "Yeah! How come I didn't know about Frodo until a couple of weeks ago!"

"He's not my pet! Go yell at Alan if you want to talk about Frodo!"

"That's not the point!"

Virgil slammed his arm against the wooden door frame, a loud bang sounding. "Well then what is your point! I would love to know why you don't want your own father at our wedding!"

She turned towards the door and yelled as loud as she could at it. "Can't you see I'm having a family crisis right now! I need time alone!"

There was a pause. Virgil's voice was lower, but he was still very angry. "I don't see or hear from you for four days. You come home, give me a quick peck, then brush me off for the next three days. That's a week! What is going on! Let me in!"

Tess sat on her bed, her hands covering her face. Sobs escaped, and not for the first time that day. Why can't he understand? she asked herself.

The door creaked open, then closed again. Virgil quietly walked over and sat down next to her on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm sorry, Tess. I really am. I didn't mean to yell . . . I love you," he whispered in her ear.

Her arms went around him, and she kissed him back. "I love you, Virgil . . . but I'm . . . worried."

"Why, Tess?" he asked, pulling back slightly. He brushed a stray piece of hair from her face.

She sniffed. "When my parents got married, they thought they were living the fairy tale. You know . . . good families . . . wealthy . . . baby on the way . . . the works. But then . . . oh, Virgil." She looked into his eyes. "Darling, I don't want us to be like my parents. What if we turn out that way? What if we're not ready for this? What if-"

Virgil smiled. "What if Martians invade Earth, and we all get turned into cheese? Darling, I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you. My job is to save people, not harm them. Don't you think I'd do the same for you?"

She smiled slightly, but didn't say anything.

He held her chin, and looked her directly in the eyes. "Tessa, remember when you were kidnapped?"

She laughed. "Which time?"

He smiled back. "The first. When your father did it?"

Tess's face fell. She nodded with the awful memory.

Virgil looked at her deeply again. "Even though I said I wouldn't, I went looking for you. Tessa, I couldn't leave you behind. I couldn't stand the thought of anything happening to you. I still can't."

A tear fell from Tess's cheek as she kissed her fiancé. It was all true.

When he broke away, Virgil smiled mischievously. "I have an idea. Why don't I leave, and you can get changed into your bathing suit? We can talk about your father later. A dip in the pool sounds fun, doesn't it?"

Tess nodded, unwrapping her arms.

He grinned. "Good. I'll go get changed." Virgil got up from the bed, and blew her a kiss, leaving the room.

But when he got to his room, he didn't immediately change. He had a better plan in mind.

Greg Peterson leaned forward in his office chair, elbows on his desk, staring at the clock hanging from the wall.

Tick, tock, tick, tock

What was he to do? He loved Lana, of that he was sure. But was he really willing to gamble his future with something that could very well turn sour?

Tick, tock, tick, tock

He really did love her, but even if he chose to openly pursue her, there was still the matter of Scott. He obviously had some infatuation with her as well. How was he to be rid of him?

Tick, tock, tick, tock

Greg shifted his weight from elbow to elbow, gauging how well every option would go. Scaring Scott off had failed miserably. Ignoring Scott had made the situation worse . . . competing against him was doing absolutely nothing. What else was there to do? Egg Scott's house!

Tick, tock, tick, tock

He was 31 for crying out loud! How many more chances would Greg get for love? Scott was only in his twenties still . . . he had his whole life practically left! Why steal someone else's girl, when you could find your own? Why couldn't Scott get that!

Tick, tock, tick, tock

Greg was working himself up. Why couldn't Scott just get a clue and be on his merry little way home? Stupid Gordon, he thought, kicking himself mentally. Why did I have to do business with him? Nothing good has come of it! There won't be a Lana Fitzgerald Emergency Ward - heck, I wouldn't even have Lana Fitzgerald if Scott gets his way!

Tick, tock, tick, tock

Greg leaned back in his chair, thoughts scattering in his mind. What to do, what to do? Then a thought occurred to him: I wonder where Scott's house is

Virgil quietly crept through the house. He was still bone-dry. Tess was sitting in the pool, waiting for him. He replayed the conversation in his mind, complimenting himself on the good acting.

"Come on, Darling, jump in! This was your idea!" she yelled, splashing about.

"Tess, did you remember the towels?" he asked, pretending to search.

She rolled her eyes. "No . . . but, come on, honey, we don't need towels! We'll call Alan, and make him get them. Please come in?"

He bent over and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be right back, Tess. It will only take a moment."

She smiled back, her arms folded on the edge of the pool, her head resting on her arms. "Don't be too long."

He smiled and kissed her again before leaving.

So now, here he was, on his secret mission. His arms held two towels, and nestled between them was what he hoped would reassure Tessa.

Virgil looked both ways before crossing the hall into her room. In one swift motion, he opened and closed the door, going straight to work.

Tess laughed as she tried to get out of the pool. Virgil grabbed her, trying to drag her back in. She turned around, letting him pull her back. She wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed him. "Virgil . . . ," she said, against his lips.

"Yes?" he answered back, not letting her go. He continued kissing her.

"Can I please go inside now? I have moping I'd like to get back to." Her smile was loving as she kissed him back.

He leaned back, loosening his hold on her waist. He paused, thinking. "Hmmmm . . . no. I'm going to make sure you're happy for the rest of your life. So, no, you can't go back to moping." He leaned back in to kiss her again.

She accepted, but slowly moved towards the edge of the pool as she kissed him back. Her arms were just touching the cement when she heard the worst sound possible behind her.

Step, step, step. . .

She broke away abruptly, and turned, her worst fears realized.

Jeff stood on the cement, arms folded in front of him, a tight and furious look on his face. "What is going on here?"

All the colour drained from Tessa's face. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She was as good as dead, and she knew it. At this rate, Tessa felt like she'd be lucky if she lived to see her own wedding day.

Virgil was shaking behind her. "H-Hi, Dad. We were just, you know . . . taking a little swim."

Jeff tilted his head, a smile on his face that told them they were in dangerous territory. "Really? Funny . . . I saw splashing. I saw kissing. I saw a lot of stuff happening in this pool, Virgil, but no swimming."

The pair stood in the pool, completely still. No words came out of their mouths.

He held a finger up. "Double chores for a week. And I don't care where my other sons are, you two are both suspended again. For two weeks." Having said that, he turned around and walked back inside.

Tess folded her arms against the edge of the pool again, her head resting in them. Virgil smacked the water in anger. "Crap! Ugh!" he yelled.

Tess shook her head. "Why does this always happen to us? Why not Tin-tin, or Alan, or Scott? Why us?"

Virgil shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't know. C'mon. Let's go inside." He waded his way to the edge, hoping out smoothly. Tessa followed him.

Virgil picked up the stack of towels, and handed her the one on top. They quickly dried themselves, and silently began their way back towards the house.

He put an arm around her waist. "There's something I want to show you, in your room."

Tess tilted her head ever-so slightly. "In my room?"

He shrugged. Virgil slid the door open, and they made their way to her room.

Tessa reached for the doorknob, but Virgil was insistent on opening it himself. As the door slowly swung open, she peered inside, and covered her mouth.

Tess stepped inside. Her smile reached ear to ear. "Virgil! This is so nice! How thoughtful!" She turned and pulled his face to hers, kissing him as wholeheartedly as possible (given the situation).

Plastered all over her mirror, desk, and wall was all she needed to know. Hundreds of post-its in various colours covered every surface. And they all read the same thing: "I love you Tessa. I always have. I always will."

Gordon had just clicked his suitcase shut when Scott opened the door that joined their rooms.

His brother rushed over to him. "What on Earth do you think you're doing!"

Gordon shrugged, picking up the first of two suitcases, and walking it towards the door. "I'm leaving."

Scott was in utter shock. "But why?"

He set down the suitcase, and walked back to where the other one lay empty on his bed. He opened it, and started putting in folded shirts. "Well, see, the whole deal is off. I mean, Lana's alive - which is good, don't get me wrong. But the whole idea was that it would be a memorial for her. I would go ahead with it anyway, and just rename it, but since you've come, my buddy Henrik wants nothing to do with it. And I can't do it alone. So, on my way to Vegas, I figure I'll drop a huge, anonymous check in at the hospital, same amount as what I would have spent on the wing. Does that help any?" he asked, smiling.

Scott was staring at his brother, trying to let it sink in. "I . . . I guess it does make sense, then. But . . . what was that about Vegas?"

Gordon smiled, now placing pants in his suitcase. "Las Vegas. Dude, after this whole trip, I need a serious break. I'm heading down there where I can relax. No hospitals. No amnesiacs. No love triangles. Just gambling . . . a lot of gambling." He zipped up the second, smaller suitcase, and walked towards the door. Scott followed him, picking up the first before he could.

Gordon opened the door, and they began walking downstairs. "I've already called dad, and he said it was fine with him. I had to do a lot of tiptoeing around facts, though. I figured you didn't really want him to know about Lana."

Scott laughed. "Yeah . . . I really want to see the look on his face when he finds out."

Gordon chuckled as they reached the elevator. He took his bag from his eldest brother, and stepped inside. "See ya in a few days, bro?"

Scott nodded, giving him a mock salute. "See ya at home."

The elevator doors shut, but Scott stood there for a few minutes, wondering what he was going to do to get Lana back.

A bellhop walked by, carrying an enormous arrangement of flowers. Scott had to think about it for a minute. He shrugged, heading back to his room.

It's not much, he thought, but it's a start.

Jeff was standing on the balcony the next morning. He was still pondering what to do.

Everything was a mess right now. Alan and Tess weren't on speaking terms over the Frodo thing. Virgil and Tess were suspended. Penelope was in love with him. Gordon was in Vegas because he was having "issues" - whatever that meant. His son, Scott, was saying absolutely nothing. And, of course, as things would go, John had called to let him know he'd sprained his ankle on Thunderbird 5.

So far, this was not turning out to be a good week.

Jeff's face was buried within his hands. Come on, God . . . can't I just have one problem at a time? Just one? You know, the number between zero and two?

Why was Penny in love with him? He was no prize. He cussed, he was old, he had five kids. . . he wasn't anything special! And besides, he didn't have those feelings for her.

He heard a noise, and looked through the window to see Penny in the kitchen, again, this morning. This time, though, she was alone. Her silk pink thigh-length housecoat pulled up as she reached for a jar on the top shelf. He watched her, memorized.

At least, he didn't think he had those feelings for her . . .

Scott was practically bouncing as he walked towards the florist. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining over the busy city, and not a single cloud lined the sky.

He turned a corner, hoping he would be able to put his plan into action.

As he opened the door to the flower shop, a small bell tingled, announcing his arrival. He walked in, marvelling at all the flowers, covering almost every available space.

A short, stocky man came out from a door in the back. "Welcome, sir!" he proclaimed, in an accent Scott was unfamiliar with, "How may I help you today?"

Scott's smile was friendly. "I'd like a dozen roses, please."

The man pointed to a corner, piled with roses. "What colour? We have red, pink, white, blue, orange, purple-"

Scott's smile fell slightly, thinking this man may very well be a nut-job. "White, please."

The man shrugged. "If you like it plain and simple, so be it." He picked up a package filled with twelve freshly-cut, long-stemmed roses, and made his way to the counter.

As he began punching in numbers, Scott looked behind him to see a wall covered in plastic flowers. Suddenly, his mind churned with an idea. "Can I also get one of those fake roses in red, please?"

The man's eyebrows knit together, forming one. He looked behind him, then back to Scott. "Are you sure? I usually only keep those around for cheapskates."

Scott laughed. "Trust me on this one. I have a plan."

The man shrugged again, and picked a beautiful, plastic rose off the wall. He pressed a couple of buttons on the cash machine, and a receipt started printing. "That will be $40."

Scott dug out his wallet, and slapped two twenties on the desk. The man took them, and handed him his flowers, the red one perched in the centre of the others, looking obviously fake. "Thank you . . . and I hope your mother likes her flowers."

Scott was perplexed. "What makes you think these are for my mother?"

The man looked like it was obvious. "Because only a mother wouldn't smack you for getting her a fake flower."

Scott shook his head, and walked out the door. He had just one more stop to make before heading to the hospital. The travel agency was just down the road, and he needed to book a flight home.

Tess had been jogging since 5:30 that morning. This had gone on for a couple of days now. She would fall asleep, then wake up early. Unable to get back to sleep, she would get up, and start jogging around outside, so as not to disturb anyone else.

And it helped her. She would get her time to think just to herself. About her mother . . . her father . . . her sister.

Why was everything complicated? Why couldn't she have a normal life? Everything had been better for her before she washed up! Her father was dead to her . . . her sister was alive . . . she had a job, a home, a family. Instead of being one of those crazy people going into fires, and earthquakes, she read about them and heard about them on TV. Sure, she had been in poverty, but she had a simple, uncomplicated life above a coffee shop.

But, then again, her life seemed to have only started when she washed up. She finally found love. She had a father again. People she thought she'd never see again were right there. And, sure, her job didn't pay . . . but she came home from it knowing she'd done something better than fill people's stomachs.

She began to head up to the house. It was about 7 am now, and she was hungry. Some peanut butter on toast sounded really good right about now.

She sighed. She wished she could share breakfast this morning with Virgil. But that was forbidden. Why did Jeff have to be so mean? Why couldn't he understand what it felt like to love someone with all your heart!

She opened the door to the house, thinking of what evil things she could do to Jeff's shoes.

Tessa walked inside. Everything was quiet, completely. It was only somewhat strange to her. Jeff and usually at least one of the boys were up now, so there should be some sounds. But there was nothing.

She rounded a corner, and stood in the entrance of the hallway. Her jaw almost literally hit the ground.

Lana fiddled with her hands as she lay on the covers of her bed. Her bags were all packed, and sitting at her feet.

Scott would be here any minute. He'd called and told her he was coming, which was unusual.

She was a little upset. She thought she'd finally come to a decision. She loved Greg, and that was that. Sure, she had feelings for Scott, but she was sure those would all fade away. After all, when had he really showed her that he loved her? Greg was always giving her small things, even if he couldn't really afford it. She knew love didn't come from a store, but it was nice to know you were appreciated once in awhile. Greg and she were solid.

But how to break the news to Scott?

There came a knock on her door, and she took a deep breath. She sat up in bed, swinging her legs over the side. "Come in."

Scott entered, and she could clearly see he was holding a bouquet of flowers behind his back.

He sat on the bed next to her. She swallowed, and tried to begin. "Listen - Scott, I . . ."

He was puzzled, as though he didn't expect her to say anything. "Yes?"

"I have feelings for you, but . . ." It still wouldn't come out. Why wouldn't it come out! It was as though her brain was shutting off all muscles to her mouth.

He sat there, waiting silently for a response. After a minute or so, he spoke. "Well, uh, okay . . . I know that. Here, I bought these for you." He handed her the flowers, a look on his face that said they had significant meaning.

She took them, smiling happily. Lana loved flowers, especially roses. It was one of her few feminine qualities. It was often one looked over, especially by Greg, because she was a tomboy.

She looked at them though. Why was there one fake rose? It stood out among the others because of its vibrant colour and shine. Why would he put one fake rose in with all of these beautiful real ones? It makes no sense!

Scott took her hand in both of his, and their eyes locked. His voice was determined, yet gentle and caring. "Lana Fitzgerald, I will love you until the last rose in the bouquet dies."

Lana softened at his words. He really cares . . . "That's so sweet, Scott . . ."

He was obviously happy with her reaction. But, was it just her, or did a look of nervousness cross his eyes?

Scott dug in his back pocket, and handed her an envelope.

She set the roses beside her on the bed, and opened the envelope. Inside, there were two plane tickets. Her face lit up.

He held her free hand again. "Come with me, Lana."

She smiled. "I love you, Scott. I would go anywhere with you." She leaned forward, and kissed him with more emotion than she thought she ever had.

When she broke free, she still couldn't believe it. Her smile seemed to spread across her whole face . . . but Scott still looked nervous.

Had she missed something?

She took out the plane tickets, and looked more closely at them. Something wasn't quite right . . . then she saw it. The location. Her hand went to her chest, and she gasped.

She turned towards Scott, an excited look in her eyes. "Really! Do you really mean it!"

He nodded, smiling broadly. She held him tight, loving him more than ever.